


Still Breathing

by lucifvgous



Series: Mammon and Scenecore [2]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Ableism, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Assault, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon Autistic Character, Canon Trans Male Character, Explicit Language, Gen, Hate Crimes, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Hurt No Comfort, No Romance, No Slash, No beta we die like lilith, Oneshot, Original Demon Character(s) (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Spoilers, Slurs, Songfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, a/b/o dynamics, making my own tags because the ones i want don't exist, physical assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:13:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26007040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucifvgous/pseuds/lucifvgous
Summary: PLEASE READ THE TAGS FOR MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS!A more in-depth recollection of how Scenecore and Mammon met, since my other story, Mammarried, only touched on this briefly.
Series: Mammon and Scenecore [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887583
Kudos: 8





	Still Breathing

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my final warning in case you didn't read the tags! The beginning of this work has explicit depictions of extreme violence linked to hate crimes fueled by ableism, transphobia, and homophobia. There are slurs such as "retarded," "faggot," and "tranny" used in this work.

Falling. Falling. Fallen.

The two demons cackled above Scenecore, sneering at the sight before them: a demon on their hands and knees covered in dirt in blood, barely alive.

“What’s wrong, faggot? Can’t use your legs? It’s no surprise knowing you’re taking all that dick like a girl.”

Scenecore winces. It wasn’t the pain of the open wounds or the way his broken bones were screaming. No.

“Like a girl,” the demon said

The word echoed through his mind, a form of torture on its own.

girl.  
Girl.  
GIRL.

His internal dam broke as he sobbed, screams ripping their way past his throat. It was painful. Everything hurt, but nothing hurt more than that. Nothing hurt more than being called a girl.  
Scenecore never made eye contact. He never spoke to anyone, and he lived alone. In fact, he didn’t even live anywhere. He lived in trees- if that could even be considered “living.”  
He was different. And everyone knew. In the Devildom, there was no such thing as a “safe space,” no such thing as comfort. Everything was used against you.

[I'm like a child looking off on the horizon  
I'm like an ambulance that's turning on the sirens  
Oh, I'm still alive]

Scenecore coughed out blood, retching.

“Hey… You smell that? Not only is he retarded, he’s a fucking tranny!”

The other of the two demons grabbed Scenecore by the collar, taking in his scent before spitting on his face.

“You reek of a female… Ha! Look at you… You’re just BEGGING to be killed, arentcha?”

Tears stream down Scenecore’s face as he hangs there, helpless. He’s given up on screaming for help, he’s given up on trying to fight back.  
What they did to him physically could matter less to him, but to hear those words… Those were what truly broke him.  
The world around him shifts as he feels his body slam against the ground.

“Yer just a waste of space down here in the Devildom. We don’t need useless scum like you.”

The world fades around Scenecore, but not before he feels the painful sole of a boot on the side of his cheek, crushing his skull into the ground. He smiles. 

“Finally.”

[I'm like a soldier coming home for the first time  
I dodged a bullet and I walked across a landmine  
Oh, I'm still alive]

It smells like blood… Blood and dirt. It’s cold. It’s wet.

Scenecore slowly fades in and out of consciousness. What happened? Ah, right… 

Tears threaten to fall at the teasing memory of what had happened, why he was here, in this state, in the first place. He was left here to die.

He shifts a leg to get up, but a pain like no other surges through the limb, and he cries out weakly, throat run dry from all the screaming before.

The demon goes limp as he sobs into the ground. Why him?

Wait... Was that even a question? Of course it was him. Any and all signs of weakness were an excuse to get beaten up, even killed. For Scenecore, it was his autism. It was why he was beaten up in the first place. Then they saw his pride pin. Then it was his scent, telling them that he was not only gay, but transgender, too.

A pitiful laugh falls past his lips as he cries to himself. He was doomed from the start. 

But despite all that, despite his circumstances, despite the abuse he faced daily, he still fought on. He didn’t know if it was out of spite, or if he was trying to prove a point. He still wonders why he fights. He spent countless days and nights sobbing to himself, wishing he was dead. Attempt after attempt, incident after incident. He should be dead, but for some reason, he just wouldn’t die. No matter how close he gets to dying, it would never happen.

Perhaps he gave up on trying to die. Perhaps he continues to fight because he knows he won’t get what he wants so easily. Maybe that’s why he continues to live on, going about like nothing had ever happened.

[Am I bleeding? Am I bleeding from the storm?  
Just shine a light into the wreckage, so far away, away  
'Cause I'm still breathing  
'Cause I'm still breathing on my own  
My head's above the rain and roses  
Making my way away]

Whatever. None of that mattered now. So what if he didn’t get lucky this time either? The only thing he could do now was brush it off and move on. There was no point in dwelling on that kind of stuff. It happened too often to even be dwelled on for long. He knew that sooner or later it would happen again.

He sighs, and with all the strength he has left, reaches an arm in front of him. If he can’t walk, he’ll just crawl.

Despite his lack of upper-body strength and strength in general, he pushed through. He pulled himself along in the mud, noting how it slowly colored with his own blood. 

Ah, right… He was still bleeding.

But that didn’t matter. That was the last thing on his mind. He could deal with it later. What mattered right now was getting away from this place and somewhere safe.

['Cause I'm still breathing  
'Cause I'm still breathing on my own  
My head's above the rain and roses  
Making my way away  
My way to you]

Anywhere but here.

[I'm like a junkie tying off for the last time  
I'm like a loser that's betting on his last dime  
Oh, I'm still alive  
I'm like a son that was raised without a father  
I'm like a mother barely keeping it together  
Oh, I'm still alive]

“Seriously? Garbage duty? Again?” Mammon shouts in disbelief

“You skipped out last week,” Lucifer sighs

“But I took the trash out yesterday! Is that not enough for ya?”

“Mammon,” Lucifer spat “you neglected your responsibilities last week, and now you’re suffering the consequences. I warned you, but you said you’d leave it off until today.”

“Augh, c’mon Lucifer gimme a break here! This is THE Great Mammon we’re talkin’ about! I can’t be goin’ around luggin a sack of garbage around… Plus, that shit stinks! Literally!”

“Well, that’s too bad then. I was really hoping that the staircase would be empty this week, but since you’re being difficult I have no choice but to string you up on the chandelier. Again.” 

Threatening to tie him up and hang him from the ceiling was enough to set Mammon straight.

“Y-Yessir! Right away, Sir!”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now, Beel already took all the trash out front so all you need to do is carry the bags to the dumpsters.”  
Mammon nods in compliance as he trudges towards the front door, making a point of slamming it on his way out. Lucifer was surely going to reprimand him for that later, but Mammon decided to worry about that when the time came. Right now, he was seething.

[Am I bleeding, am I bleeding from the storm?  
Just shine a light into the wreckage, so far away, away  
'Cause I'm still breathing  
'Cause I'm still breathing on my own  
My head's above the rain and roses  
Making my way away]

It was childish, getting so worked up over simple chores, but Mammon was Mammon, and he was having absolutely none of it. 

“I bet most of this garbage ain’t even mine! Why’re they makin’ me take out THEIR trash for them? They should just be doin’ this themselves…” His free hand clenched as he growls lowly, cursing Lucifer under his breath. “One day I’ll finally move outta the House of Lamentation, and I’ll finally be free! Just me, myself, and Goldie. Mornings will be nice ‘n quiet, and I get to do whatever I want! No annoying brothers pushin’ me around tellin’ me to do this or that… no annoyin’ brothers tellin’ me that I’m stupid ‘n useless ‘n scummy… None of that! The Great Mammon will finally be free!”

Mammon smirks triumphantly as he entertains the thought in his head, tossing the first bag of trash into the dumpster. One down… Ten to go. Jeez, how much garbage did a family of seven produce? On second thought… His family might be a bit different, considering Beel.

['Cause I'm still breathing  
'Cause I'm still breathing on my own  
My head's above the rain and roses  
Making my way, away, away]

His lungs burnt hotter than the fires in the pits of hell, but he kept going. He needed help. If Scenecore didn’t die this time then he’d might as well heal up instead of suffering any longer. But where he had been was far from any urban area. Dehydrated and still bleeding out, he drags himself along the ground. He was aware that he had left a trail of blood but he could care less if he were eaten by some wild carnivorous animal. At least that guaranteed the sweet release of death.

It was the dead of night, and seeing was near impossible, yet he still kept going. He still pulled himself along, desperate to find someone, anyone, who would either finish him off of help him recover. 

Seriously? This was the life he had to live. Struggling in a world that’s just waiting for a chance to strike, living in a place that could kill you had you made one wrong move. He hated it. He hated it more than he hated himself.

When he finally reached the gates of a mansion, he had given up. 

Scenecore slumps down onto the cold, rough concrete before the world fades to black once more.

[As I walked out on the ledge  
Are you scared to death to live?  
I've been running all my life  
Just to find a home that's for the restless  
And the truth that's in the message  
Making my way, away, away]

3:33 AM.

Mammon squints at his D.D.D. and groans. It’s been four hours, and he still can’t sleep. Sometimes he wonders if his hair’s not naturally white, but instead is just like that because of all the stress.

He laughs at his little inside joke before sighing in defeat and rolling out of bed. It isn’t good to stay in bed if you can’t sleep, anyways.  
He quietly pads down the hallway and towards the nearest window before flying out. 

The Devildom at night was scary… Really scary, but because of the lack of light pollution where he lived, the stars shone brilliantly up in the sky. They were amazing. Like tiny little flecks of stray paint, splattered amongst a pitch-black canvas. It was beautiful. He’d never say it out loud but he was truly grateful for the lack of light in the Devildom. It gave him such a clear view of the stars and he would trace shapes with them every night, like a connect-the-dots page. 

['Cause I'm still breathing  
'Cause I'm still breathing on my own  
My head's above the rain and roses  
Making my way away]

Eventually, Mammon found himself seated on the roof of the House of Lamentation, watching the stars and creating his very own constellations. He could care less if he ended up falling asleep on the roof. Hell, his brothers wouldn’t care at all if he went missing. They probably wouldn’t even notice. They wouldn’t go looking for him. It pained him, knowing that despite those just being negative thoughts that brought himself down, they were also true. Even if they were family, even if they did love him, they never showed it. Sometimes he wonders if they stopped loving him altogether. He wouldn’t be surprised if they did. It really hurt, thinking about it, but he knew they wouldn’t care about his feelings at that point. They don’t even care about his feelings now.

He spent quite a bit of time staring blankly at all the little stars in the night sky, thinking about his life. Would he still be this sad if he hadn’t fallen? Would he still be suffering if the great celestial war never took place at all? Would he still be mourning the death of his beloved Li-

No. He can’t be thinking about this. He should be happy. He should be grateful… But even then, he was still hurting.

He sighs and rolls over, but a small glare in the pitch-black streets caught his attention.

Aw man, did he forget a trash bag?

Mammon grunts his discontent but gets up to take care of the forgotten garbage bag. He’d been up on the roof long enough already.

But when he saw it moving up and down… When he saw bright green and pink… When he saw thin, pale arms and legs littered in scars and bruises… When he saw, when he SMELLED the terrifyingly large puddle of blood it was sitting in,

He realized it wasn’t a garbage bag- Or a thing, for that matter.

['Cause I'm still breathing  
'Cause I'm still breathing on my own  
My head's above the rain and roses  
Making my way, away, away]

It was a person.

['Cause I'm still breathing  
'Cause I'm still breathing on my own  
My head's above the rain and roses  
Making my way, away  
My way to you]

**Author's Note:**

> quick author's note:
> 
> the reason why it's said that Scenecore is a person rather than a demon is that in "Mammarried" Mammon doesn't know that Scenecore is a demon. He believed Scenecore was a human due to how fragile he is and doesn't find out that he's a demon until further down their relationship.


End file.
